


No Other Table

by myblueworld



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, and add a desperate Villa into the equation, and smug silva is my favorite thing, because I am a sucker for coffee shop AU, so let's combine those two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 12:50:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10571664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/pseuds/myblueworld
Summary: “You go with another name now?” David blurts out before even thinking about it. His face reddening as the brunet guy (David? Silva? What is his name exactly?) looks at him.He tilts his head to the left, studying David’s face. David feels strangely breathless once he sees how his brown eyes are like melted caramel.The right corner of his lips curls up into a crooked smile, almost like he’s amused with David.“That’s my last name,” he says. “You know, just to make sure that you don’t mistake my drink as yours just because we share the same name.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from a Tumblr prompt:  
> One day the café is immeasurably busy. Customer A has grabbed the last two chairs and is currently using one as a leg rest (a position Customer B frequently teases them about).  
> Customer B walks in and sees Customer A. Customer A smirks. Customer B simply walks over and wordlessly lifts up Customer A’s legs, sits down and places them back on their lap, orders both of their usual’s and then starts working on their laptop as if nothing has happened. Customer A is shell-shocked. Customer A is also very slightly aroused.

 

David is reading an e-mail on his phone when he hears Sergio calls his name. He only flashes a quick glance at the barista to say his thank you. Then his eyes are back to the screen of his phone as he reaches out for the cup on the counter.

His neck instantly turns to where his hand is when he realizes that instead of holding a cup of coffee, his hand is touching something else. David slightly frowns as he sees how his hand is now covering someone else’s hand. He quickly lifts his head up to see the owner of that other hand.

But once David sees who the hand belongs to, suddenly he doesn’t really mind not getting his coffee. In front of him is a guy with brown hair, half-covering his eyes. But even through some strands of the hair, David can see a pair of brown eyes, so captivating that for a moment David can only look at those brown eyes.

“Uhm,” the brown-eyed guy clears his throat. David blinks, trying to pull himself together. The guy stares at David, then pointedly looks at the cup, where David’s hand is still covering his.

“Oh, right.” David hesitantly pulls his hand back.

The guy takes the cup away from the counter, but still has his eyes on David.

David smiles awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I thought he was calling my name,” David apologizes, nervously runs a hand over the back of his neck.

The guy stares at him for a second or two with head tilted to the left. Then a corner of his lips tugged up into a small smile. “Don’t worry, you’re fine,” he says, pushing away his hair from his forehead as he straightens his head back.

“And a cup of Cinnamon Almond Milk Macchiato for David.”

Sergio’s voice makes the two of them turns their head to where the sound came from. Behind the counter, Sergio still has his hand on the cup that he just put on the counter.

Sergio pushes the cup closer to David. “Yes, this time it’s _you_ that I am calling.” He angles his neck to the brunet guy. “You already had yours, right, David?”

What Sergio said makes David turns his head to look at the other guy. “Your name is David too?”

The other David is sipping his coffee, and peeks at David from his eye lashes.

“Yeah, I’m David,” he says. “So, have a nice day, _David_ ,” he says, lifting up his hand that is holding the cup a little. There is a small amused smile on his lips as he nods.

David is too hypnotized with the way the other David’s eyes glint, he doesn’t return the greeting. Once he manages to pull himself back to reality, the slightly smaller David already turns around. David watches his back as the guy makes his way to a table near the window.

“He’s new in town,” Sergio tells him with a rather conspiratory tone.

David turns his head to look at Sergio. “Huh? What’s that?”

Sergio folds his arms on the counter, and leans forward. “That _other_ David?” Sergio gestures toward the other David with his chin. “He just moved in from Chicago like…two weeks ago.”

 _No wonder I’ve never seen him before_ , David thinks to himself. He just came back from a three-week training in Boston yesterday.

David rubs his chin. He flashes a glance again at the new David, who is now having his laptop opened in front of him. He’s typing, sometimes stops  for a while to jot down something on his notebook.

“Does he come here often?” David asks as he takes his cup from the counter.

“Ahhh… Already have a crush on him at the first sight?” Sergio says, wiggling his brows. David almost chokes on his coffee.

“No I am not!” he says.

It’s not like a crush or something. You can’t call being hypnotized by someone’s eyes as a crush, right? And this sudden urge to see his smile again is _not_ a crush. And David swears that him wanting to feel how soft that guy's hair is between his fingers? _No_ , it has nothing to do with a stupid crush.

Sergio chuckles as he straightens his back.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a grin. “You’re not the only one. You are the seventh person got smitten by him within the first seconds.”

Sergio leans forward again. “Or maybe, you _should_ worry. It’s going to be a tight competition to get in his pants.” Sergio whispers and winks.

For the second time, David chokes on his coffee. And this time he can also feel heat spreading quickly all over his face.

David rolls his eyes. He turns around and about to walk away when Sergio calls him.

“Oh, and David?”

David turns his neck to look at Sergio over his shoulder.

“He usually comes here at around 6.30,” Sergio says. He winks at David and turns around, starts busying himself with other customer’s order.

David makes a small groaning noise as he turns his head back and walks to a table.

 

*******

“He’ll be here in a minute, don’t worry.”

David’s head snaps up to find Sergio grinning at him. The barista slings the cloth towel that he’s holding to his shoulder as he walks towards David.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on!” Sergio punches David’s shoulder playfully over the counter. “You know exactly what I am talking about.”

David tries to study his face into an expressionless one. But it seems like a lame attempt, because he can feel how his face is reddening.

“If waiting for that David is not what you are doing now, then why you’re sitting here instead of on the usual table?”

Well. Because David needs some sort of variation. That’s why.

The fact that the stool that he is sitting is the nearest one to the side of the counter where Sergio puts the customers’ orders for them to take? No. It’s definitely not a reason for David to sit there.

And the fact that the stool where he is sitting is the most strategic place to start a conversation with anyone taking their order from the counter? No. Of course David was not thinking about that either when he chose to sit there.

“Looks like you needs to get some coffee for yourself, Sergio. Because clearly you are talking nonsense,” David says. He lifts his cup up and drinks from it.

Sergio is opening his mouth but closes it again as his head turns to the entrance door of the coffee shop. David throws a quick glance at the entrance. Despite that it was beating in a ridiculous speed just a second ago, it’s weird how suddenly his heart stops working when he sees the person who is making his way in. The new David is pushing away his hair from his forehead as he is walking to the counter. A postman bag is hanging on his shoulder, and David can’t help but notice the way a blue tie is hanging loosely around the collar of his white shirt.

David quickly looks down and staring at the white plastic lid covering his cup. His heart starts working again. In a much faster rate than it should be.

He hears the brunet guy is making his order. Jordi who is behind the register says something as a reply, something that David can’t really catch. But whatever it is, it’s funny enough as now David can hear someone is laughing. David carefully lifts his head up. He wonders how come that guy have a laughter that sounds like a wind chime. From where he is standing now, a little bit behind Jordi, Sergio flashes a grin at David with a mischievous glint in his eyes. David really wishes Sergio was standing closer so he can punch him on the nose.

David looks away. Half because he can’t stand the way Sergio is wiggling his eyebrows at him with that stupid grin. Half because he suddenly feels like he needs to calm himself down. After two or three seconds, he turns his head back, only to see the other David is walking away from the register, to where he is sitting.

If his heart was beating twice faster than before, now it goes way over the speed limit.

Once their eyes meet, the other David seems to recognize him. At least from the way he crooks an eyebrow. His lips tug up a little into a small polite smile as he nods at David. David returns the smile even though suddenly smiling becomes a quite hard thing to do. David’s mind is racing to find something to say. Maybe a simple _hello_. Or the casual _how are you_. Oh, why can’t he remember any pick-up lines that he knows once he desperately needs one?? But before he even opens his lips, the brunet David already makes a small turn to the wall across the counter. Standing with his back against the wall, he takes out his phone from his pocket and starts fidgeting with it.

This is one of the times when David hates technology and how it keeps people away from interacting normally with each other.

David stares blankly at the lid of his cup again. This is _stupid_. He’s good in flirting. He knows his charm and how to use it. Why suddenly he becomes like an awkward 16-year old boy having a crush to a school idol? David lifts his head up to sigh, just in time when he sees Sergio walks to the corner of the counter with a large carton cup in his hand.

“Café mocha with no whipped cream for…” Sergio stops for a short moment to read the scribbling on the cup. “Silva?”

“Oh,” the other David puts his phone back into his pocket as he makes a few small steps to the counter. David watches as he takes his cup and flashes a smile at Sergio.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You go with another name now?” David blurts out before thinking. His face reddening as the brunet guy ( _David? Silva? What is his name exactly_?) looks at him.

He tilts his head to the left, studying David’s face. David feels strangely breathless once he sees how the brown eyes staring at him are like melted caramel.

The right corner of his lips curl up into a crooked smile, like he’s amused with David.

“That’s my last name,” he says. “You know, to make sure that you don’t mistake my drink as yours just because we share the same name.”

He winks at David as his lips curl up a bit higher.

And just like that, he turns around and walks away to a vacant table. On his stool, David is sitting still, feeling how his face is burning for reasons that David will never want to admit.

“So,” Sergio says. He folds his arms on the counter and leans to David. “Silva?” he asks with a teasing tone along with a grin on his face.

David turn his head slowly from watching Silva; who is now sitting on a table and taking out his laptop from his bag; and stares back at Sergio.

“Yeah,” David nods a little, but really, he’s not actually talking to Sergio. It’s more like he’s talking to himself.

“Silva,” he says quietly, tasting the way that name rolls on his tongue.

*******

“Nice weather today, huh?”  
“It is. Why don’t you go outside to enjoy it?”

 

“You look busy. Still working?”  
“If I wasn’t, I would have been at my apartment with a glass of wine.”

 

“Hey! I didn’t see you yesterday, Silva.”  
“I didn’t see you either.  What a coincidence, huh?”

 

“I like your shirt.”  
“Thanks. You should get one if you really like it.”

 

“Nice tie, Silva.”  
“Thanks. I know. That’s why I got it.”

 

David is desperately running out of ideas. For the last two weeks, he has been trying to start a conversation with Silva, but all that he got is only a one-line answer. He always makes sure that he comes before Silva, and sits in a rather hidden corner in the coffee shop. Once Silva comes, gets his order, and takes his seat, David will casually stand up from where he’s sitting, and moves to another table in front of the one where Silva is sitting. And while he’s making his way to the table, he’ll say something (that he may or may not have rehearsed quietly while he is waiting for Silva to comes) as he walks pass by Silva’s table.

Silva; who always, _always_ has his laptop in front of him, will only glance at him. That short, one-line sentence is always, _always_ the kind of response that he gives smoothly to David, without even losing a breath. And before David can think of something, anything to say, Silva will already have his eyes back on his laptop screen, radiating the unspoken warning of look-mate-I-am-trying-to-get-some-work-done-here.

So, feeling a bit more than just slightly embarrassed, Villa can only walk to the table in front of Silva and sits there. He doesn’t know what the fuck is wrong with him. But this time, he’s not his usual self. He can’t think of anything witty to say back to Silva. He can’t make any worth-spoken remark to Silva’s response. He just _can’t_.

And the fact that Silva always has that small vague and rather smug smirk on his lips whenever he replies David… Well, it doesn’t help David to think of a proper response.

It’s driving him insane. The way Silva doesn’t seem to care about David’s signal that he’s been hinting on at Silva.

David starts to wonder, whether he has to just give up, or maybe he should start doing it in a less subtle way.

Maybe he can try to say something like _Hey your lips look so delicious and I can’t stop thinking about how it feels to kiss it so do you mind if I kiss you now?_

 

*******

David doesn’t understand why, but the coffee shop is incredibly crowded when he walks in. Yes, he knows that it’s Friday night. But even for a Friday night, how this coffee shop is packed with people is unusual. Even with an additional barista working behind the counter, it takes a bit longer for David before he gets his order.

Thankfully, the table in the corner where David usually sits is vacant. David sits there, and looks around as he takes out a book that he’s been reading for the last few days. He still can’t figure it out, why so many people suddenly decided to spend their Friday night in this coffee shop. But he shrugs his shoulder and opens the book.

Two minutes later, the crowd in the coffee shop has become nothing but a background noise for David as he drowns himself in the Data Mining theory.

Feeling the slight tension on his neck, David massages the back of his neck lightly. He takes away his eyes from the book and gazes around. The coffee shop is even more crowded now. David glances at his watch, and he realizes something. If he sticks to his routine, Silva must have been here by now. Or at least, he’ll be here soon.

David lifts his head up and looks around again. This time with a particular intention. To see whether someone in particular is here already. It only takes a moment before he sees Silva, standing a few steps away from the counter. With of his hand sholding his cup while the other is gripping the strap of his bag, Silva’s eyes are wandering around the room, slightly frowning.

David takes another quick look again around the coffee shop, and realizes another thing. There isn’t any vacant table left. Even more, the only chair that is vacant is the one on David’s table, right across of him.

David turns his head again to where Silva is standing, just in time when Silva is also looking to where he is sitting.

It’s like the scene of eyes-meeting-through-a-crowded-room in a movie, and somehow it makes David feels giddy inside.

Slightly grinning, David looks down again to his book. He stretches his legs, and puts it on the chair in front of him.

He knows that Silva only has to options now: sitting in front of him, or leave the coffee shop. He has a feeling that it will be the first one.

And well, with his legs on the only chair left in the room, surely Silva will have to talk to him to sit there, right? Surely he has to say something, asking David whether he can sit there, right?

From the corner of his eyes, he can see Silva sighs, and starts walking towards his table.

Ah, see? A victorious feeling is rushing in him as David tries to pretend that he’s still reading.

He starts thinking of how to answer when Silva will ask whether he can sit there, on the same table with him.

 _Yes, of course. Go ahead._  
_No, I don’t mind at all._  
_Please, I’d like to have a company after all._  
_Strange how it is so crowded here tonight, huh?_

David can hear the sound of footsteps coming closer. David starts to get a bit panic. He still can’t decide how he will react. But much to his surprise, he can feel his legs are being lifted.

Lips parted in a shock, David watches Silva swiftly pulls the chair while he is still holding David’s leg with one hand.

The next thing he knows, Silva is already sitting on the chair in front of him. With David’s leg on his lap.

Silva doesn’t even bother to look at David, let alone say anything to him, as he takes out his laptop, places it in front of him and opens it.

David stares in disbelief at Silva, half of his face is hidden behind his laptop.

Silva looks up at David from his eyelashes, and crooks an eyebrow at him. David opens his lips wider, trying to find something to say. But Silva already has his eyes on his laptop. David can hear the click-clack sound of the keyboard, that stops for a moment as Silva takes his cup and sips his coffee.

David closes his lips back, but still stares at Silva. The other guy himself doesn’t seem to realize. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. He keeps looking at his laptop, typing quickly, sometimes stops to drink from his cup, or just to stare at it with a serious expression, his chin between his thumb and his index finger. David keeps on staring at him, as Silva keeps working, scrolling his wireless mouse, sometimes scrunching his nose a little and shaking his head lightly, like he is disagreeing something that he is seeing on his screen.

And David’s legs are still resting there, on Silva’s lap.

David’s eyes dart from Silva’s eyes, to his lips, then lower to his neck. He looks back at Silva, who appears to have decided that he will ignore anything but his laptop. Suddenly, Silva stops typing. His eyes are still on his laptop, but his hands move to the collar of his neck, and he starts loosen his maroon tie. David swallows. His throat is dry as his eyes are transfixed to Silva’s skilled fingers, working on the knot of his tie. His tie is now hanging loosely, Silva’s fingers continue to work, slowly unbuttoning the first button of his shirt. After the first one popped open, the slender fingers go further down, working on the second button.

It takes all the self-control that he has for David to hold himself from batting away Silva’s hands from where they are now, and replaces them with his own. Because the way Silva is doing it now, it’s too slow, it’s such a torture to watch.

Once the second button is opened, David shamelessly lets himself admiring part of Silva’s skin being revealed.

David lifts his head up, and leans forward a little.

“Hey, Silva?”

Silva doesn’t answer him. He just looks back at David from behind his eyelashes as he raises an eyebrow. But David can see the small sly smirk on Silva’s lips.

David keeps his eyes level at Silva’s.

“Can I kiss you?”

For a moment, Silva says nothing. But the corners of his lips tugged up a bit higher. Just a bit higher.

Then he closes his laptop, and leans forward, closer to David.

His face is close enough to David, David can smell a mixed scent of fresh pine and sea breeze from him. Their faces are close enough, David can start counting the freckles scattered on Silva’s face.

“Only if you ask me out after it,” Silva whispers, voice low and inviting.

“That,” David says, slowly leaning even closer. “Is something that can easily be arranged.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up with any prompts you may have on my Tumblr: thebluesideofmyworld.tumblr.com :)


End file.
